


Raising a child, flippin over the compost, flirting and making out, you know, the usual stuff

by beta_blockers



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley are being idiots, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Non-Sexual Roleplay, Other, Roleplay, bad grammar, lot of typos, you know the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19343932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beta_blockers/pseuds/beta_blockers
Summary: Warlock had the weirdest nanny and the weirdest gardener ever. They're in love though so...





	Raising a child, flippin over the compost, flirting and making out, you know, the usual stuff

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while playing monopoly

Warlock is an observant boy. He actually pays attention even if it doesn't seem like it. 

He likes the staff in their house. The chef always gives him extra cookies, the maid is kind to him, the gardener is interesting to talk to and his nanny, although she is strict, is nice as well. 

This actually has nothing to do with the chef or the maid. There isn't really a lot to observe about them. 

He likes observing his nanny and the gardener, but only when they're together.

That doesn't happen often. She is a nanny and he is a gardener - she dwells in the manor and he spends his days out in the garden, nothing hard to grasp. They don't meet often.

But sometimes, the nanny would take him for a walk and she would smile at the gardener. She would smile so sincerely and he would smile back. The first time Warlock started noticing that, he was too young to understand that smile. And then, he started noticing that smile in movies, between his mom and dad..

A sincere, kind smile, beaming eyes and red cheeks...

The gardener and the nanny were in love! 

Young Warlock was proud of himself for noticing that. But now that he looks at it - it's so obvious! 

He forced the nanny to take him for more walks. He actually enjoyed the walks and the nanny seemed to always brighten up whenever she would see the gardener. 

Warlock saw her shoulders relax and back straighten whenever she was approaching Mr.Fell - the gardener. 

Warlock held her hand and asked: ,,Miss Crowley?" He looked up at the extraordinarily tall woman. Her gaze lowered towards him ,,Are you and Mr.Fell in love?" his voice was still thin, childish, his fingers small - gripping at Crowley's hand. And he's already asking questions like this?

,,No," said Crowley, his tone was stern enough to silence the boy.

And still, when they passes Mr.Fell, she 'discreetely' nodded at him, his cheeks flushed. Warlock raised his eyebrows - why do adults have to lie all the time?

One day, when Warlock was about seven years old and old enough to stay in rooms all by himself (it wasn't necessarily unsafe, the maid would pass by occasionally to check up on him), his mother approached him while he was sitting behind the dining table, casually playing a game on his console. This was one of the rare moments both of his parents were home, therefore the nanny had a free day. Still, she chose to stay by the manor - she took her job very seriously and wanted to be near in case the child need assistance.

His mom sat down next to him ,,Warlock, sweetheart, could you please call your nanny?" Her hand landed on his shoulder ,,Me and your daddy are going to dine out, but we'll be back soon this evening," 

Warlock shrugged reluctantly and looked at his mother with pleading eyes ,,Don't go," he said as he stood up, putting his gameboy down.

But his mother didn't oblige and instead looked at him with a 'please' on her lips that always stays unspoken. Warlock blinked and said: ,,Okay," his voice low. His mother rubbed his hand gently as a display of affection before he ran off.

Aziraphale and Crowley had been meeting in the barn every week for the last seven years, discussing the situation.

,,The kid's doing good?" Aziraphale poured himself a glass of box wine - very unclassy of him, I know, but he can't bring his own wine and the thought of stealing some wine from the Manor was distasteful. So he bought himself the most expensive box of wine that he could find, just to get an illusion he's actually drinking something good.

,,Well, he definitelly ain't doing evil," Crowley mumbled back, splayed across a lawn chair, his ankle lenght dress was spread open and you could see his hairy legs. He picked up a wine glass and leaned it towards Aziraphale. While the liquid slowly poured from the box, Crowley made a disgusted expression.

Aziraphale noticed ,,They didn't have normal wine," He excused his choice of alkohol.

,,Yeah, I bet," Crowley unwilling brought the half-full glass to his nose and sniffed in the smell of rotting grapes ,,You could've just miracled us some," He murmured, not loud enough for the angel to hear him properly.

Aziraphale sat down on an old, old, wooden chair. So old it creaked under his weight and his heart skipped a beat, he soon resumed to his calm state upon realising it didn't break down. He took a sip of wine and grimased.

Crowley watched him, chuckling. He drowned his glass and instead of making a grimase, he groaned. The wine shook his body quickly and violently, and he could feel actual tears wailing in his eyes - it's so disgusting.

,,Oh Goodness," Aziraphale wiped his mouth with his shoulder ,,Ughh," He closed his eyes and tried to shake the taste out of his memory. They should've had tea like the usually do.

Aziraphale, after a session of groaning and gasping, suggested: ,,Why don't I make us some tea?" 

,,Yeah, anything's better than this," Crowley pulled his tongue out, still hopeful to get rid of the taste. 

Box wine is, in fact, not that bad, not for a random person, or a group of 15 year old boys drinking for the first time, or a homeless man. It's definitely not something for two ethnical beings that had tasted wines all over history and have only ever drank the finest of them. 

Aziraphale miracled them two cups of tea on the three legged, limping stool that they refer to as a table. 

Crowley took the first sip - it's delicious. He moaned, delirious for he had chased away the filthy taste of cheap wine (Really? It was worth 17£!)

Aziraphale smiled at him, bringing his cup of tea close to his mouth, letting the steam that's fattened with herbs and sugar coat his face in warmness. 

This is how it went usually - well, minus the wine box incident, that was a one time (two times - they tried it two years later once again, thinking it'll be better, spoiler - it was worse) incident that they don't want to remember. 

Crowley lowered his cup ,,Did I ever tell about what the boy had told me one time?" 

,,I don't know," Aziraphale took a sip from his tea ,,What did he tell you?" 

,,He asked whether Miss Crowley and Mr.Fell are in love," Crowley said, mimicing Warlock's childish tone.

The angel raised his eyebrows: ,,Oh? And are they?" 

,,Madly," Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale put his cup down on the stool, his cheeks flushed pink as he tried to keep himself steady ,,Well then, Miss Crowley," He moved closer in his chair.

Crowley gave him a wicked grin ,,Mr.Fell," He stood up, walking elegantly towards Aziraphale. He placed his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders. At this point, they both were giggling, finding this situation rather silly.

The angel's fingers met Crowley's boney sides. He choked on his words, cheeks red and his lips curved into a smile that he cannot control.

,,Oh? What's the matter, Mr.Fell?" Crowley bent his body over and from behind his sunglasses - his eyes stared into Aziraphale's.

Aziraphale wanted to say something so he kissed him, that's a good word, isn't it?

Warlock's small hands started opening the barn door, splinters digging into the palm of his hand.

Crowley, of course, returned the kiss, forgetting the roleplay, he sank in, opening his mouth. 

Young Warlock entered the barn to find his nanny kissing the gardener, and he was, by all means, not shocked. 

Aziraphale's hands slid back and forth from Crowley's waist down to his thighs - it was almost tempting, how slowly his hands moved, trying to not seem voracious, so immodest.

And Crowley was tempted (tempting) - to sit in his lap, one leg on Aziraphale's thigh and one still standing on the ground, supporting his weight.

Warlock made a step inside, he almost called out, but the moment seemed too passionate as the nanny pressed her body against the gardener, the backbone of the old, wooden chair leaning back with a creak. 

Warlock ran back into the house. 

,,Mom, the nanny and the gardener are kissing," he told his mother, her eyes widened, her gaze wandered over to her husband, they exchanged a horrified expression.

**Author's Note:**

> the wine part was completely unnecessary but It's there And I Like it. Also, sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language and I sometimes have trouble making sentences.


End file.
